


There She Was

by longmire



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Kara Danvers, Eyes, F/F, First Meetings, Friendship/Love, Lena Luthor Finds Out Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Lesbian Lena Luthor, Neighbors, Slow Burn Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:07:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longmire/pseuds/longmire
Summary: Living a life as part of the privileged few isn't all it's cracked up to be; a lonely existence in an ivory tower. That's when a blonde girl makes her way into her life, stretching her gaze across a busy National City street, and all Lena can do is fall.





	1. When Eyes Meet

**Author's Note:**

> The start of something, I hope.

  
It happened one night.

A particularly bad day at the office, a board meeting that didn't want to end, a group of entitled men behaving like petulant children; it was enough to drive anyone to drink, and that was exactly what the raven-haired Luthor did the minute she got home. Her hand reached for the green bottle, then thought better of it. Something stronger. She took the whiskey, unscrewed the cap, poured caramel liquid into a tumbler, and a desperate hand grasped it like it as a lifeline back to her slowly straining strands of sanity.

Lena looked around for her purse, thrown somewhere in the expansive kitchen, and retrieved her phone. Apart from a few emails she hadn't dealt with at the office, there were no notifications. No text messages, no phone calls, no voicemails. Her heart constricted a little as the pangs of loneliness crept in, banished to a shallow grave with another sip of claret. Lonely she might have been, but right in that moment she wanted peace and quiet, and her penthouse apartment offered refuge.

A sigh escaped her lips as she descended to the pristine white couch, legs uncrossed, very unladylike, and she couldn't have cared less. Reaching up to her perfectly business-style bun on the back of her head, she took the pins out one by one, tossing them onto the glass coffee table until the raven locks flowed around her shoulders. It was then, and only then, that the first elements of relaxation started to seep into her bones. She could breathe.

In a shorter moment than Lena would usually have liked, the glass was empty and needed to be refilled. She considered what the evening would hold for her; another drink, a long bath, a late night, a restless sleep. The first thing on the list was easy enough to do. Tired feet carried her back to the kitchen, kicking off the pinching heels as she went. More whiskey poured into the glass. Her breath constricted, her heart fluttering, she needed air. Sliding the large glass doors open, she stepped out onto her balcony, into the soft embrace of the warm National City night and the stars glistening in the expanse above.

Some would say it was romantic. Lena scoffed at the notion. She wouldn't be one of them.

She leaned her arms on the railings surrounding the penthouse balcony and looked down onto the city below. Warm lights from the apartment building opposite flooded the streets with ambiance; people with families, sitting down to dinner, talking about their day, going about their lives. Lena ran her teeth over her top lip. Who would ever want that? She didn't have to share her life with anyone. If she wanted company, she could get it. She didn't have a need for family, she had minions, after all a life of a Luthor was a lonely one, as Lillian had reminded her.

There was one light in particular she noticed. The apartment was a little lower than her penthouse and hadn't had light emanating from it for a long time. She assumed it had been vacant.

That was until she watched a tangle of blonde hair climb out of the window onto the metal fire escape. Lena's eyebrow quirked up as she watched the lithe young woman readjust herself on the window ledge, her back to one side of the frame, her hands cradling a mug of something steaming. It was the first time Lena had seen someone do that and it looked awfully dangerous, but the woman moved as though a long drop to the ground would mean nothing to her.

Intriguing.

She finished the remnants of the caramel liquid in her glass and glanced back at the young woman, only to find her looking up into her, then her lips spread into a brilliant smile resonating sunshine itself. Lena's heart skipped a beat.

Should she smile back? She didn't know what to do. She managed a thin-lipped response, more akin to a grimace than a grin. The blonde was strikingly beautiful, and if she'd been a few floors up, Lena was almost sure she would have walked on thin air over to her. The woman's hand raised in a small wave, a greeting from one neighbor to another. Lena's breath hitched in her throat.

An obnoxious blare of noise jolted her into being and she turned back to the apartment. Her phone's ring echoed from the living room, demanding her attention. She retrieved it, setting the glass down on the kitchen island as she walked through barefooted on warm tiles, but was too late to answer the call. Lena held the phone to her chest as she tiptoed back along the tiles to the balcony doors, hoping to catch another glimpse of that blonde hair, reaching the railings in time to hear sirens calling loudly in the serene evening.

And all that was left of her blonde neighbor was a steaming mug on a windowsill.

 


	2. Here Starts a Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lena finds out she's got more of a thing for blondes than she thought she did.

A pen twirled around restless fingers and tapped repeatedly on the black binder lying on her desk. Lena couldn't keep a thought in her mind through the day, not long enough to do anything remotely akin to productive. Jess, her long-suffering assistant, had been breezing in and out of the office all day with papers that needed signing, reports that needed reading, and a cautious curiosity at what could be captivating the attention of the youngest Luthor. 

Lena, however, had looked out of the large windows, lost in thoughts of ringlets and blonde hair. She would never have admitted that a red t-shirt and jeans-clad window sitter had caught her eye, that was far too improper for her to even be considering. Days had passed since she first glimpsed the bearer of said clothing, and much to her dislike, Lena had made a point of being home around the same time each evening, standing out on the balcony, a twinge of hope blossoming in her chest that she just might see her again. 

No such luck had crossed her path. She was cursed; of that, she was quite sure. 

The click of the door latch roused her from thoughts of her neighbor, and Jess entered with another raft of documents clutched in her arms. She deposited the pile onto Lena's desk, aiming an apologetic smile in her direction. 

   "The proposals for the research grant, Miss Luthor," Jess explained, hovering beside the desk. 

Lena turned away from the window and glanced at the top page, and the empty signature box calling for her approval in ink. She ceased to twirl the pen around her fingers and laid it down with a click on the glass desktop. That was all she was good for nowadays; writing her name in cursive on more paper than a small forest could produce. A sigh escaped her before she could hold it back, and she caught Jess looking her way with a question busying about on her face.

   "Remind me to get my signature made into a stamp for you," Lena said, a small glimmer of humor dancing on her lips, and Jess responded to her with a small chuckle.

   "It's not that long a brief," Jess replied, collecting the black binder from underneath the stack of proposal notes and cradled it to her chest. "Can I get you anything?"

   "I could murder a coffee. Please?" 

Jess nodded at the request and promptly left the office, a minute mission ahead of her. Lena offered a close-lipped smile in silent thanks to her perpetually proactive assistant as she closed the door behind her.  

She regarding the portfolio in front of her and for a brief, fleeting moment she considered reading it. It would kill another hour, and she only had a handful of them left before she could go home, kick off her heels, and stand out on her balcony waiting for the windowsill sitter. Her fingers flicked the first page over, only for her eyes to be assaulted by words and her mind to drift even further away. 

Lena huffed and dropped the page back to it's resting place. She couldn't be like this over a girl, this wasn't Lena Luthor, this wasn't the way she operated. If she wanted, she could march over to that building, or have Jess call the landlord, and demand the name of the apartment occupant. Of course, the blonde would trip over herself, fall in love with Lena there on her doorstep, and they'd have a wonderful weekend together before Lena grew bored and moved on. She only needed to drop her surname into the conversation.

Of course, that would happen. In her wildest dreams. The girl would run a mile. 

Sick of the thoughts rampaging around her head, Lena slammed the palms of her hands down onto her glass desktop and pushed herself up from her chair. She all but ran out of her office door. Jess would obviously need help with the coffee. 

  
  


* * *

 

Another warm evening greeted the dark-haired CEO as she stepped out of her penthouse onto the balcony. The blustery wind of the early morning had long since abated, leaving a pleasant dark night under a canopy of stars. In her hands was another drink, another glass of maroon liquid that did more to steady her nerves than it did to settle her mind. She took deep lungfuls of the fresh air that circulated the skyline apartment building and looked down toward the opposite building.

There, sat between the window frame, was a length of blonde hair draped over lovely shoulders. 

Lena smiled to herself and cradled her glass against her cheek.  She had a thought of how she should play the game; she would smile, she would flirt from afar, she would become the predatory Luthor until she got what she wanted. She flicked her dark hair over one shoulder, combing her hand through it, and preparing herself for the blonde to turn and be utterly blown away by her confidence that radiated the block.

That was until the girl looked up and positively grinned with sheer happiness. Lena was winded. 

It was like being punched by delight from across the street. The air left her lungs, her stomach tied itself in knots, a shiver caressed her spine like a lover's finger would, and Lena was left clutching what was left of her balled up confidence tightly. 

A light blue cardigan seemed to want to cling and fall simultaneously to the blonde's torso, a t-shirt underneath, dark jeans, and thick-rimmed glasses that wanted to slide off the end of her nose. The blonde stood and stretched her arms up to the sky, the t-shirt riding up just enough to show the tell-tale definition of a well-chiseled abdominal wall. 

Lena swallowed the lump in her throat alongside a hefty dose of scotch from the now empty glass and suddenly felt incredibly overdressed. A flush crept up from her ankles and she could feel a tingle spread across her arms that had nothing to do with a sudden gust of wind that whipped around the apartment building. 

Never before had a chasm between two buildings felt so far. 

The blonde mimicked Lena's pose, leaning on the railings of the fire escape outside of her window, and waved up at the CEO before pushing the glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Lena felt only a physical response was fitting and so, she waved back, which seemed to delight the occupant of the opposite apartment to no end. Neither seemed to want to move from their perched posts, content to enjoy the freedom of the warm evening's air, both lit by the glow from their respective living spaces. 

However, the happiness of the moment was short-lived, as someone had entered the blonde's apartment and was calling from inside. With another radiant smile and another wave of her hand, the blonde retreated back into her home through the window from whence she came, only backward, tripping over the windowsill and falling through the opening.

Lena chuckled to herself, and raised the empty glass to her lips, momentarily forgetting she had already gulped the remainder of the liquid. At least she was having an effect. Time would tell whether the effect was because the blonde knew who she was (who else would be living in the penthouse?) or she was genuinely clumsy. Lena wanted to believe the latter, but her keen sense of  _ everybodyhatesorfearsme  _ syndrome leaped to the forefront of her mind. 

Besides, the blonde was obviously a perfectly lovely person to be waving a complete stranger. Lena wanted to believe this too. 

Figuring that was going to be all she wrote for their nighttime rendezvous, Lena strode back inside her home and tipped the remaining liquid from the scotch bottle into the glass. She called out to her phone to remind her to pick up a new one or to get Jess to have one delivered the following day, then deleted it and made the conscious decision not to become a raging alcoholic on each night of the week. 

A hot bath was run and as she lowered herself into it, Lena imagined the blonde opening the bathroom door, slipping off her glasses, and letting her see those defined muscles once more, before descending into the tub alongside her. The thought alone made her want to drown herself in the six inches of water. She dunked her head under the foaming bubbles and didn't come up until thoughts of the blonde kissing her shoulders had abated.

  
  
  
  



	3. Must Not Swallow Loudly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An opportunity is presented. Food is consumed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments! It's only a start of something but I hope to actually finish this at some point soon.

   "KARA!"

The shout from inside the apartment sang through the walls, and the blonde pushed herself up off the floor, dusting off her jeans before looking up to see her sister, carrying a bag filled with delicious takeaway containers.

   "Oooooh, I love you," she cooed her x-ray vision trained on the bag, the contents making her mouth water. Saliva glands were in full production. "You're too good to me."

Alex shook her head and deposited the bag on the kitchen island mere seconds before the lightning-fast younger sibling descended on it. She looked up to see Kara already shoving a potsticker in her mouth.

   "Shit... Kara! They were a surprise," the protest was muted by the loud moaning emanating from Kara's lips. "At least enjoy them, don't inhale them."

   "Ah av no ihea wot yer tahkin bowt," came the response, another potsticker already being masticated in the blonde's face, earning her a staunch look from the older sibling, and for once not being quick enough to snatch away the container. "Hey!"

   "Eat your noodles first."

Kara grumbled and picked up the carton along with a pair of chopsticks, cracked open the lid, and started to shovel the lengths of noodley goodness unto her mouth. The crack of a lid echoed and a bottle of beer was pushed in front of her, Alex cracking her own open, and took a long drink.

   "What were you doing on the fire escape?" came the inevitable question from the redhead. Kara swallowed before responding and reached for her beer.

   "Watching, waiting, listening," she smiled, washing down the noodles. "Looking, mainly. It's a lovely night."

   "I know, I was out in it," Alex responded, collecting her own box of Chinese noodles and digging in before asking another query. "How's she look tonight?"

Kara sighed, momentarily lost in thoughts of the woman who lived across the street in the penthouse apartment. Since that first evening, she had stuck in her mind and wouldn't let go. Alex had likened it to having a parasite lodged in her frontal lobe, to which a potsticker had been deftly thrown in her direction, and Kara didn't sacrifice those lightly.

   "Good, she looks good," said the younger Danvers, in a hopeless attempt at trying to sound nonchalant. "You know, good. Like all - businessy? Classy. Perfect."

   "Oh yeah, I know good," Alex chuckled, similarly stricken by a familiar Chief of Police. She chewed down a raft of spicy egg noodles before probing again. "You know, I could find out who she is if you asked nicely enough."

It was all Kara could do to not splutter food over the island, instead, resorting to blowing her off with non-verbal noises that sounded far too much like an attempt to protest and a disinterested wave of her brandished chopsticks.

   "Pfft, no, that would, I mean, I just..." she slowed down her chewing rate and gave her sister the side-eye. "I mean, you could, I suppose, but you couldn't... could you?"

   "One click of the mouse," there were moments like that where Alex liked the fact she held so much power in the DEO, not to mention the name and address of every single person in the city. She stored the information away for later use; even if Kara protested, it would be handy to know who her sister was pining over in case it came back to bite them swiftly on the rear-end.

   "All that power," Kara cooed, then laughed. "No, I'm fine with the way things are. This way I can make up a life for her and I know I'll never know the truth, that she's married with four children to a stockbroker." She shook her head to herself, as if making an internal decision, then added a little quieter, "And the whole alien thing."

The last statement had a heavy weight to it. Between them, holding the secret of Supergirl was enough to drive anyone away from the secretive sisters. The dangerous role Kara played in underpinning the safety of National City left little room for romantic entanglements, and those that had transpired hadn't been good, to say the least.

   "Not everyone is like Mon-El, you know," Alex said, receiving a roll of the eyes from Kara. She had hated him, the very bones of him, and had put up with his sorry excuse for a partner for as long as was tolerable. Pre-destined mate Alex's ass, he wasn't going anywhere near the younger Danvers ever again.

   "I know," was Kara's only response. That told Alex enough. Then, she brightened and smiled brightly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Anyway, who has time for all that when I've got a city to save."

   "That's my girl", Alex clinked her beer bottle against her sisters. Kara had all but thrown herself into her work after the hatchet job of that relationship. However, it wasn't all bad. She'd moved into a new apartment, settled herself nicely in the heart of the city, and seemed to be coming out of the eye of the storm. It was progress if nothing else.

Kara stabbed at her remaining noodles with her chopsticks, her uplifted mood by seeing her Princess in the ivory tower was suddenly taking a downturn down the alley of bad memories. She was still healing the big hole Mon-El had left behind and as much as she was moving on, time was moving slower than she would've imagined. Her heart constricted at the thought of how happy she thought she'd been for such a small amount of time, and she shoved the leftovers away from her, suddenly feeling a little ill.

Alex quirked an eyebrow, then stretched out of her hand to cover her sisters, and gave her an encouraging smile. "I'm sure she's not married with children. Now, don't leave food or I'll tell mom."

Kara couldn't help but smile and shake her head.

 

* * *

 

 

One long morning spent in the gym, then one attempted deli robbery, finally, Kara was sitting behind her desk in the towering offices of CatCo. Clutched in her hands was a tennis ball sized basketball James had got her for her SuperFriends Secret Santa present. She squeezed it, careful not to do so too hard, her mind drifting off to places on top of buildings where heels clicked along black sparkling tiles. She could let herself live in a fantasy, daydreaming of dark hair and green eyes, and that twitch of a smile upturned at the corners when Kara had waved causing the blonde's blood pressure to rise significantly. If she'd been Human, obviously.

But she knew, somewhere deep inside, that it was just a fantasy. The woman would be married, without a doubt, with a husband who put rose petals in her bathwater and poured wine by balancing the bottle on his forearm. They would have children, because with those defined cheekbones and gorgeous eyes, who wouldn't want to mix their genes together? Their life would be the perfect balance of work and home. It sounded nice.

Nope, there would certainly be no entertaining of a young girl's affections from far away, even if far was across two sidewalks and a cab filled road.

   "Are you flying again?"

Kara frowned, roused from her daydreams of being enraptured in her mystery woman's arms, thrown off balance by James stepping up to her desk.

   "No, why would I be flying?" she laughed, shaking her head, quickly glancing around for anyone within earshot. "Don't be ridiculous James, people can't fly."

Her statement earned a look from the ever-suffering editor, and as he stood before her with his hands on his hips he looked more like a Super than she did most days.

   "I meant that dreamy look floating around on there," he wiggled a finger at her face, then deposited a folder on her desk. "Well, this should keep you grounded for a while."

Kara pulled the brief toward her and opened the page. It was a request for an article about the new super-power in town, namely the change in name and ownership of the Luthor Corporation to the now ambiguous L-Corp. The new owner, Lena Luthor, had been cagey about being interviewed for the first time as the CEO and had offered a half hour slot (a strict half-hour) to a competent writer.

   "Wow, I can't believe she's giving an interview," Kara said, her eyes scanning the list of requirements for the interview that entailed such stipulations like must not ask about Lex Luthor among other delicacies. "Who's the lucky journalist?"

James shook his head again, then leaned his hands on the outer edge of her desk and leveled her with a look. "You. Snapper's decided a gentle touch would be best and you're the gentlest we've got to hand."

   "I feel so special," Kara replied, rolling her eyes at the indication she was some soft-hearted soul who would treat Lena Luthor with kid gloves. There was one piece of the puzzle missing from the briefing outline that made Kara pause. "When is it?"

Taking a glance at his watch, James responded, "In about an hour."

Kara nearly choked on the frail Human atmosphere.  "An hour? James, I've got no way of preparing for this!"

He shrugged his broad shoulders and grinned, "You'll be fine. It's a puff piece; just go, be nice, and write what you find there. It doesn't have to be extravagant, God knows the woman is extravagant enough for the both of us."

The Woman of Steel looked down at the briefing list again, at the long list of what must and must not be discussed, picked it up and held it out to James.

   "Have you seen this? I don't have time to prepare any questions that don't completely avoid everything on here," she looked down at the page, "Look. Must not ask about the Luthor Corporation's founding. How the hell can I write a piece on a company that I can't ask about?"

   "Simple," came the lifted eyebrow and crossed arms from her friend. "Write it about her. Nothing strokes the ego of a CEO more than something dedicated to them."

Unsure, and feeling completely unready for this, Kara dropped the page back to the briefing folder and slumped back into her chair. How was she supposed to do this when her most recent venture into the world of interview journalism had been an article on the 10 Best Ways to Adore your Kitten. This was far above her pay grade. Kara knew she wouldn't last five minutes in that office before Security was escorting her off the premises.

   "You'll be fine," James offered, sensing her trepidation with those incredible Human empathetic powers. Kara scoffed. "You will. She might be a dragon, but you're a puppy. It's half an hour, you get a byline on what could be one of the most read articles we've ever produced, and Snapper won't kill you."

Kara sighed and looked up at her friend, her colleague, her often mentor. At least she could finish it and get back to the perch on her windowsill.

She didn't have long to consider it as her phone started to vibrate in her pocket, and she whipped it out. Alex. Emergency. Shoot.

   "Crap, I've gotta go," she said, quickly sweeping the file up in her arms, grabbing her bag, and making a run for the door, at the last minute remembering to run a bit slower than she could.

   "Remember the meeting!" James shouted after her.

Yeah, like she could forget.


End file.
